District X
by Shostakovich
Summary: Welcome to Manhattan's Middle East Side, where the most popular band is the Juggernauts and everyone wants to wear clothes made by a fellow with four arms. That's right, you're in Mutant Town. Step on up. Toad/non-OC/Deadpool and other pairings.
1. Hannah Levy

This is the first chapter in a series of quasi-vignettes inspired by the short character spots advertising the Wolverine movie and the District X miniseries.

Pretty much everyone in this story who isn't from the movie is from the comics, reinterpreted by me. My blanket disclaimer reads that things that don't belong to me belong to someone else, and that's still true! :-P

Anyway. I'm not sure about this first chapter, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Read, review, and enjoy! Thanks for your time.

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_Nothing about me is interesting._

_I'm just a poor college graduate living in the city._

_Maybe I'm a little different, but please don't judge me for it. It's not like I asked to be different._

_My name is Hannah Levy,_

_and I'm a mutant._

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Hannah Levy was slightly past her college degree when she met her current boyfriend.

It hadn't been luck, that much she would gladly tell anyone. Anyone who considered themselves 'lucky' to meet Mort was nuts. He was green, for God's sakes. And his codename was Toad.

Lame.

Especially lame since Hannah Levy knew more about the amphibians than he did, and she was as far from a biology major as most people could imagine. (A bachelor's in social history hardly prepared one for the daunting task of gutting dead animals. Thank God she'd only needed to take a few science courses to graduate.)

No, it certainly wasn't luck. It was more bad luck, really, that she'd been visiting mutant high the same day he'd decided to stop by. Good luck for some people, though— had she not arrived exactly when she did, he might have gotten nailed in the chest with lightning again.

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_// Jun 08 //_

Hannah hadn't been in a rush to see anyone at Xavier's. She felt obligated to visit, though. Professor Xavier— though it was Storm in charge, now— had generously paid the part of her college tuition that her single mother couldn't. It only made sense that they have proof she'd turned out okay.

She buzzed in at the front gate, heard Storm was waiting at the front door, and parked her car in the long driveway before grabbing her purse. She eyed the man in front of the door and wondered if his hair was green by choice.

The door opened on him, and Hannah saw Storm's face whiten. Something shattered.

"Cor, you're a cack-hander, woman! Cain't even give a hullo for an old friend?"

Hannah hurried to the door as she felt her hair start to stand on end. The last thing she needed was to watch this green-haired British guy get electrocuted.

"Storm, calm down!"

Storm turned to Hannah, surprise evident on her face if not in her white witchy eyes. "Hannah." Her eyes darkened back to their normal brown, and her expression softened slightly. "I think—"

"Well well well, wot 'ave we got 'ere?"

The green-haired fellow was giving Hannah a once-over, and she didn't like it at all. She liked it even less when he shrugged, and turned away once he'd made a thorough inspection of her.

"Who do you think you are?"

He turned back, eyebrows raised. Hannah saw Storm's face pinching with nerves out of the corner of her eye, but no one made insults to Hannah Levy like that without answering to her.

"Well. I'm Mortimer Toynbee. But I could be wrong, luv."

"I doubt it. Even someone as crazy as you couldn't come up with that name from nowhere."

"Maybe I killed th'real Mortimer Toynbee."

Hannah snorted. "Puh-lease. The real Mortimer Toynbee is standing right here and just got saved from getting his sorry ass electrocuted thanks to me."

"Hannah..."

"I don't know who you think you are, Mortimer Toynbee, but nobody treats me like dirt and gets away with it."

"Well them I'm very sorry, ma'm. Won' 'appen again."

Mortimer Toynbee gave a little bow at the waist and a flourish of his hand. Hannah's lips twitched as a fly landed on his sleeve, and he followed her gaze. Before Hannah could see, much less register, the smirk on his face, his tongue had shot out impossibly long to catch the fly off his sleeve.

He smacked his lips together once his tongue (complete with stuck bug) was back in his mouth. "Delicious."

"Those might be good but they are hardly delicious," Hannah said without thinking.

"Wot?"

Hannah tried not to laugh at the surprised look on Mortimer Toynbee's face.

"It's the honeybees that taste the best."

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_// Now //_

It had turned out that Toad was there to try and find Mystique. Apparently, he'd heard she was there, posing as a student or whatnot. She wasn't there, it turned out, but in the end he managed to make amends with Storm despite their mutual attempts three years previously to kill each other.

Hannah wasn't sure if she was more surprised by the fact that it all went down well or that it all went down with the only other person she'd ever heard of, let alone met, with a power at all similar to hers.

After having known Mort for about a year, she was leaning towards it going well.

Pretty much everything he did was illegal, pretty much everyone he talked to was a criminal, and pretty much everywhere he went was shady.

Except when he went to her place.

He told her repeatedly not to expect anything from him, and she tried not to. It was hard living in a monogamous relationship and not quite knowing what he was up to, but no one else Hannah met, human or mutant, could quite live up to the strange standards Mort unintentionally set.

Only one person he'd told her about had interested her more than the average lawbreaker, and that particular one was an insane mercenary who she was never going to meet.

That's what Mort said, anyway. She didn't have any reason not to believe him.

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_// Her Favorite Coffee Shop //_

Most mornings before work Hannah got coffee at the cafe on her street corner.

It was at this cafe she'd met the mutant called Mr. M.

Absolon Zebardyn Mercator was, by conventional human standards, mostly unremarkable. He was slightly shorter than the average middle-aged male, had a slim physique, was bald, and generally wore black suits with a fedora. His most curious trait was his bright, light blue eyes. It was his eyes that generally made people give him a second look, but that was pretty much all the time the public had for him.

Hannah was a bit smarter than the average human, however, so she had managed to befriend the Belgian. Later he told her he knew she was smarter. She never doubted it, and that was because Mr. M was probably the most powerful mutant in the world.

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_// Four Months Ago //_

Winter was unfriendly in most places north of D.C., Hannah was quickly discovering. She'd been visiting around the Northeast, looking for somewhere else to conduct research aside from Boston, when she discovered District X.

It was technically the Middle East Side of Manhattan, but no one called it that any more than they called Kansas City 'City of Fountains'. Everyone called it District X, and sometimes the kids would call it Mutant Town in a touching repeat of the kids at Xavier's dubbing their school Mutant High.

It wasn't like she wanted to move to New York City, but after realizing the potential of living among dozens, maybe even hundreds, of mutants she knew it was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. Plus she'd be near Xavier's if anything went enormously wrong.

So she bought an apartment on the third floor of an old walk-up in one of the nicer parts of District X, cleaned it up some, and started working. By mid-March, Hannah had been 'discovered' by the North American Historical Review and they were publishing some of her better articles about mutants and other minorities.

Life was going pretty well, despite the high crime rate in Mutant Town. Somehow it evaded Hannah's building entirely, and in the middle of March she met the reason.

She met Mr. M at her general haunt, the local internet cafe where she spent a lot of her free time. The internet in her apartment never worked well enough for her liking, so she checked her e-mail down on the corner of her street. It was while she was reading an article sent to her by a co-worker that Mr. M gently cleared his throat.

He'd sat down across the table from her, alarming her slightly.

"Can I help you?"

"My name is Absolon Mercator, and I believe we live in the same building."

"Oh." Hannah took a sip of her coffee, then took another. It was suddenly better than it had been. Absolon Mercator smiled, and she realized with a swift rush it was him that improved the taste. "Um, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'm Hannah. It's nice to meet you, umm— do you mind if I just call you Mr. M?"

"Not at all. And I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."

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_// Two Months Ago - April //_

It had been a month since Hannah met Mr. M, and they had become close friends, to her intense surprise. The fact that such a powerful mutant wanted to spend time with her amazed her.

At first, she thought he could only change flavors of things, so when little by little she realized he was more powerful than probably all the X-men put together, their friendship made her happier than she'd been in a long time.

Mortimer noticed one night when he came over for pizza, and his surly response to her obvious good mood over another guy made her think he might be jealous. That was when she worked up the guts to (finally) kiss him.

After she did kiss him, he gave her a look so shocked that she laughed and kissed him again. This time he sort of kissed her back, and the third kiss he started himself. Hannah felt immensely pleased with herself until he pulled away.

"Look, luv, ya got t' realize I'm not good fer all this."

"Oh, please. You're smarter than the majority of guys and you're cute, or at least I think you are, and that's all that really matters."

He snorted, but sobered quickly, shaking his head. "Yer a bonney and all thins good, 'Annah, but don' get me wrong. It's a bad idea."

Hannah knew he was hoping she'd be too hurt to fight back, and for a moment she was. But being happy, she had discovered, made her stronger. So when he stood up, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down onto her futon.

"Oh no. No. I'm sorry, Mort, but don't play that bullshit with me. It's a fantastic idea, and just because you think you're above your baser human instincts doesn't mean I am. I like you, Mort, and I know you like me, so stop playing hard-to-get and just kiss me already."

Mort was looking at her with something akin to pride. "Ya gotta be mighty chuffed, ya little brussen."

"What's a brussen, then?" She crossed her arms. "What's a bruss— ah."

She didn't finish because Mort had pushed her black hair away from her neck and was kissing the hollow behind her ear. Pretty soon he was kissing her on the mouth, and Hannah was so pleased with herself that she didn't care he was a little sloppy.

His codename was Toad, after all. Hannah wasn't young enough to still be praying for a prince.

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_// Now //_

Mort was hardly the perfect boyfriend.

He was moody, listened to bad English metal music, and never told her what he was doing to make money, although she knew he had a lot.

Today was their two-month anniversary, although Mort refused to acknowledge anything about them was regular enough to warrant anything conventional.

Even though he ended up sliding into her bed most nights well after midnight, he refused to call her a girlfriend, although she consistently referred to him as a boyfriend and he'd only complained once before accepting it. And although he came over for a movie once a week, he never let her distract him.

And he refused to have sex with her. His favorite excuse was that she was too young, but Hannah knew that was bullshit. It wasn't like she was jailbait; she was twenty-two, and a mature twenty-two at that. She was an adult, god damn it, and she'd like to be able to make her own decisions for a change.

So she'd come up with a way to make him realize she wasn't the pristine angel he imagined her to be.

It was funny, really— sometimes when they were making out, she'd try to touch him, and he'd move her hand back to his upper body, or up around his neck or in his hair, just to be safe. Safe from what, she had no idea, but it was high time he treat her like an adult and not some fresh little virgin.

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_// Well After Midnight //_

Hannah didn't know how Mort got in, but it was through the window on the fire escape. It was easy enough to jump up— well, easy enough for him. And picking locks was something he'd mastered at the age of seven.

So like usual he picked his way through the apartment to Hannah's bedroom, but he stopped when he heard music playing.

He didn't know what it was, but he'd heard her listen to similar stuff before. So when he got to her door and saw the light on underneath, he paused.

_Fuck._

He knew it had been two months. It was the longest any relationship-type thing had lasted for him— or at least it would be, if nothing happened to make it end before morning. Two months was the marker for Mort. Two months was how long the one other girl he'd gotten semi-serious with was able to put up with him before disappearing.

Of course, she hadn't been Hannah, she'd been some prostitute that ended up getting together with his crazy mercenary friend before getting killed a few weeks later by her new boyfriend's enemies.

Mort could live with Hannah ending it. That he knew he could live with. He didn't know he could live with her getting in on with Wade Wilson, though, so he was praying everything went well tonight.

He knocked on her door, still praying.

When she opened it, she was wearing a negligee that made his mouth water, and Mort knew the matter was out of God's hands.

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_// Well After Sunrise //_

It had gone well, although Mort was pretty sure it had more to do with him deciding to throw caution to the wind than any praying.

Now, he was waiting for her to wake up. He was pretty sure she wasn't going to freak out as some of the other girls had the morning after, as those girls had been drunk, and the certainly hadn't been Hannah.

_She's so bleedin' diffrent._

Mort didn't understand her at all, but he did understand that somewhere between last night and today, he'd accepted that he wouldn't be able to live with her ending it. Somewhere between the laughs she had at their combined expense and the insanely boring articles she wrote, Hannah Levy had wormed her way into Toad's comfort zone.

He didn't quite mind, although now he worried about keeping her safe.

Before, it was easy to pretend she meant nothing.

Now, what with everything that had happened, it wasn't easy. And he knew he'd have to make sure his work demeanor didn't let anything slip, because he knew one day someone would want him to do something he didn't want to.

God forbid they use her to get to him, because if they did he swore he'd crush them to a—

"Hey there."

Mort looked down at Hannah's face. He hadn't noticed her waking up, but she was smiling at him. He smiled back with little difficulty.

"Hey."

"You should smile more," she whispered. She reached up to trace the smile lines on his cheeks. "Really."

"I'll try."

Still smiling, Mort kissed her.

He had a feeling that in that moment, both of them were happy.


	2. Wade Wilson

Here is chapter 2, and as before things that don't belong to me belong to, well, other people.

Again, a lot of characters and backstory is being taken from comicverse.

I would be honored if you'd spare a minute after reading and leave a review. I'm still not 100% sure about this story and I would love to hear your feedback. Thanks!

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_All I ever wanted was to travel to far-off, exotic places,_

_meet new and exciting people,_

_and then kill them._

_So I became a mercenary._

_My name is Wade Wilson_

_and I love what I do._

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"He has to have some kinda girl."

Wade was, for once, not the one talking. Instead it was Weasel blabbing, trying to figure out why their New York City contact hadn't been home for three days. Wade was picking things up and looking under them.

"I mean, what kinda guy doesn't come back to his place at all?"

"A dead one."

"Nah, Mort's not stupid. He's not gonna get killed. Unless you went and killed him without telling me."

"Ha! He's not even a challenge. You'd think a guy who can jump over a helicopter would be a challenge, but nope. By the way, check it."

Wade showed Weasel a cage full of locusts. A few dead ones were rotting at the bottom.

"Eugh! Wilson, you know I fucking hate insects!"

"Aw, but they're people too." Wade turned the cage around until he found the latch. He snapped it open and tossed the cage to Weasel before heading out of their contact's apartment. He heard Weasel's shrieks and smiled before slamming shut the door.

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// _Nineteen Years Ago_ //

Part of Deadpool died in 1990.

It wasn't just that he'd been beheaded by the two animal brothers, although that was hardly pleasant. It was more the fact that the one part of him that made him slightly more human than the two animal brothers was taken away.

Wade Wilson had been diagnosed with cancer years earlier, but the advanced technology offered by William Stryker kept him alive and, for the most part, healthy. Occasionally he had relapses, but Stryker's team of doctors fixed him whenever it happened. Sometimes, they made him sit through the procedures with little or no anesthetic, which Wade knew was Stryker's way of getting back at him and his big mouth. Whenever Wade mouthed off particularly well, he felt a surge of self-satisfaction. He got respect for talking back, and he knew he needed every ounce of that he could get his hands on, since respect was easy to lose when you were terminally ill.

Thank God for Wolverine, though.

Had the idiot not come back for that adamantium bonding, Wade never would have gotten the guy's healing factor.

Of course, had the idiot not come back, Wade never would have been grafted with an adamantium skeleton of his own and he never would have had his head cut off.

But of course nothing good ever lasted for Wade, not even death, so when he woke up and fixed himself after the set of brothers pushed him off that giant wall, he was surprised to find most of his other augmented powers pretty much gone.

He didn't quite know why (though he figured it had to do with, you know, being beheaded), but it was nice to know he'd never have to worry about shooting lasers out of his eyes. He hadn't liked that particular power much. Felt almost bad for the kid they'd taken in who was stuck with it.

Wade was glad he wasn't the sort to lose sleep over someone else's problems, because if he was he'd never sleep. Lots of people had lots of problems, mostly due to him and his job.

A job he suddenly didn't have.

Wade hadn't been out of work since he'd been working, and although he was sure he'd find more work than he cared to take on soon enough, re-entering the ranks of mercenaries was not particularly fun.

For heavens sake, all the people he had to kill were _boring._

Unforgivable.

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// _Now_ //

Despite his love of killing interesting and exciting people, sometimes he found one or two that were amusing yet not quite exotic enough to dispatch of. One of these was Weasel.

Another was Mortimer Toynbee, aka Toad, from York in England. How exactly he ended up in New York City wasn't something Wade knew or cared to know, but ever since Toad had started supplying Weasel with technology, the three of them had become friendly.

Mort wasn't completely stupid, so the degree of friendliness was limited to an occasional stiff drink after the exchange of goods with green. But Wade sometimes listened to Mort's stories.

Wade's personal favorite?

That one time he confused one of the X-men by pulling some ballet moves before getting electrocuted off the top of the Statue of Liberty by her teammate. Even thinking about it made him smirk.

_Ballet._

Wade snickered. Jesus Christ, if the X-lady was as hot as she sounded Mort should've just gone with the horizontal tango. Although of course Mort was hardly as good-looking as he was. Any girl would have to be half crazy to find him attractive.

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// _Mutant Town_ //

One thing Wade Wilson knew about New York City was that the half crazy chicks lived in Mutant Town— District X, as the authorities called it.

He happened to know one of the crazy girls— she was a dancer at a club he and Weasel sometimes went to. Apparently now she had a particular favorite customer, but that didn't mean Wade couldn't call in a few favors.

"Wade, I don't owe you any favors."

Lorelei Travis was one of the more popular exotic dancers at the Wildkat Klub. She had pink prehensile hair and what Weasel liked to call a 'killer bod'.

"Sure ya do, sweetheart. You're still alive, aren't you?"

Lorelei couldn't argue with that.

"Aw, I knew you'd come round. I'm looking for this guy."

Wade handed Lorelei a photograph Weasel had conjured up. Lorelei raised a delicate fuchsia eyebrow and nodded.

"He's been in here a couple times, not recently though. I think his name is Frog or Toad or something— pretty sure it's Toad."

"It's Toad," Wade confirmed. "Know where he lives?" Lorelei shot him a disgusted look. "Guess not! Well then, know where we can find him?"

"I'm curious, why—"

"Don't be curious, sweet cheeks. It's better for ya." Wade patted her cheek. "If ya can't help us you'll owe us."

"Ha ha ha." Lorelei was clearly unamused. "You better hope you don't offend anyone more powerful than you while you're out looking for Toad." She drew her plump lower lip into her mouth and thought a moment. "I did hear him mention a Hannah once. Probably meant Hannah Levy."

"And who is this Hannah Levy?"

"Some girl."

"She work here too?" Wade and Lorelei shot Weasel identical looks and he quickly lost the lewd look on his face. "Sorry, geez."

"Anyway, sweet cheeks, care to point me in this Levy's direction?"

Lorelei smiled wryly. "I'd rather not. She happens to be a friend."

"Oh, don't lie to me, dearest. You've barely met the girl." Wade smiled at Lorelei's shock. "You're an open book to me, Lorelei, so if you cherish your hair, you'll tell."

Her pink hair spun off her shoulders and into a tight weave at the back of her head, away from Wade and the pair of scissors he held expertly in his hand.

"She gets coffee at the Cafe Des Artistes, okay? Just— just leave me alone."

Wade waggled his fingers in a farewell as Lorelei backed away. "Thank you for your time. Have a lovely evening."

Lorelei fled backstage.

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// _Twelve Years Ago - 1997_ //

Sometime between hunting down folk in Egypt and Japan, Wade started regaining his former good looks.

Again, he didn't know why, but he had a feeling it might have had to do with the radiation coming from Blind Al's eyes. Before he met that crazy lady he'd been as ugly as hell and damnation, all chalky skin and hole for a mouth. Also bald, which was the part that bothered him the most after those ridiculous tattoos.

But now, in Japan, he'd lost his red-and-black hood and was sporting a fresh set of lips, a bit of a tan, and a nice little buzz cut. He certainly wasn't as handsome as he had been (not yet, anyway) but he did get the attention of Sazae, the daughter of the man whose crime family he'd been hired to infiltrate.

He spent three years training with the Oyakatas before his employer told him to kill them in 2000.

Of course, his employer hadn't quite realized Sazae had warmed the whole family in Wade's eyes. After seven years of having to pay for sex, he again appreciated amourous women. And, in this case, their families.

So Wade told his employer to go fuck himself before going back to the States.

That was the first time Deadpool didn't finish a job.

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// _Now - Cafe Des Artistes_ //

Years had passed, and Wade was back to his former glory. Being fifty didn't mean he looked fifty, and he certainly didn't act fifty.

No, he looked and (for the most part) acted like a thirty-year old in his prime.

Well, thanks to the remarkably gullible Logan (Wolverine was how he went now, apparently), Wade still was in his prime. And he was actually kind of thankful for it.

He noted the cute waitress who was headed out the door and was slightly more thankful. A better look at her walking away, and he became even more appreciative.

Funny how that worked.

Anyway, he was waiting at the Cafe Des Artistes for Hannah Levy.

Technically, he had Weasel waiting for Hannah Levy. Wade himself was in the second-story apartment across the street, watching the cafe with a pair of binoculars. He zoomed out from admiring the waittress's backside (and lion's tail) and noticed a girl who looked remarkably like the description Weasel had given him walk in.

Wade whistled appreciatively.

If that was Hannah Levy, Toad had outdone himself. She wasn't gorgeous or anything— aside from six black spots below each eye she was pretty plain. But she had an hourglass figure that Wade would be more than willing to kill for.

Which brought Wade back to Mort, who was following her in.

"Bingo."

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// _Slightly Before Midnight_ //

Wade had Weasel detain Mort, who owed them both a significant amount of time.

He followed Hannah Levy home and to work that day. Apparently her job was about as glamorous as her boyfriend— not at all. She wrote and edited articles for some academic magazine in uptown Manhattan, and somehow that kept her living semi-comfortably in New York City.

At the coffee shop, she hadn't gotten any coffee, just a plastic cup of ice water and a baguette, which she ate none of. She handed it to Toad.

In fact, all day at work, she ate nothing. It might have been a little alarming to a normal person, but Wade just figured it had to do with her mutation. He didn't really care.

After she got home and Wade was safely in place outside her windows, watching her carefully, he was only slightly disgusted to see her eating locusts with a tongue like Toad's, only hers was a healthy pinkish-red and not green.

And she was a lot cleaner about it, too. There was no sloppy snatching birds from tree branches or any of the shit Toad liked to pull to gross people out. Actually, she brushed her teeth immediately after eating, which was kind of weird to Wade, who usually waited until just before bed.

_Dude looks like a lady comparing tooth-brushing habits. Jesus fucking Christ._

Anyway, watching her catching her food made her wonder what else she could do with her tongue, and that made waiting until she fell asleep to explore her apartment slightly more difficult.

He wasn't Weasel or Victor, though— he could control himself when he needed to.

So he waited.

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// _Three Years Ago_ //

Meeting Mortimer Toynbee in New York City had been a stroke of good luck.

Weasel told Wade that Mortimer was a bit of a tech genius. Wade was pretty sure Mort was better than Weasel sketched him out to be, knowing Weasel.

He'd been an insecure yet skillful 19-year old in '87 when they'd first met, and now, almost twenty years later, Weasel (real name Jacob Hammer) was pretty much exactly the same. Liked to downplay other people's talents to seem better.

Weasel did a good job, so Wade took what he said about others in his field with just a small grain of salt.

He rarely used the term 'genius', so that had to mean something.

At first, Wade figured it was to make up for Mort's looks, because the green Brit was hardly a sight for sore eyes. Hell, he made Wade's eyes sore, at first.

But after seeing what Mort could do to a simple pistol with the proper equipment, Wade's eyes stopped hurting and started glimmering.

"How much do you charge, frog-boy?"

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// _Now_ //

Wade Wilson made a valuable ally in Mortimer Toynbee, but lately he hadn't quite been up-to-scratch. Weasel came up with the girl theory.

Usually Wade would have agreed straightaway, having been drawn off-course by women before, but in Toad's case he wasn't sure. It wasn't just the physical aspect of his mutation— Toad just wasn't a charmer.

_Well with a name like Toad you'd have to be stupid to think he would be._

Hannah Levy didn't seem like much of a charmer either, to be honest. Yeah, she had a nice figure. But she was hardly suave or stylish like the little waitress had been.

And she worked for an academic magazine.

Of all the things, that was the most unforgivable. It might take a bit of self-control on Wade's part not to kill her simply for that.

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// _Well After Midnight_ //

Wade slipped in through the window in Hannah Levy's living room. It was the easiest one to access, being on the fire escape, and he figured it was how Mort got in as well. Stupid girl didn't even have a proper deadbolt on the window, it'd be easy to just walk in and kill her.

Which was not the plan.

_Not the plan._

The living room was not hugely interesting. There was a television, a couch, and a few chairs crowded around a small dining room table with others around the TV. On the coffee table was a pile of boring-looking books and on the walls were a few photographs of various people, most of them looking enough like Hannah Levy for Wade to label them relatives.

He went into the kitchen next, where he perused the fridge and took out the orange juice. As he circled the small room, he drank from the carton, eventually ending up back at the refrigerator. There was a collection of magnets, one of which held up a picture of Hannah with a woman who was probably her mother.

Wade left to look in the bathroom, the only room left besides hers. A damp towel hung on the back of the door and there was an electric toothbrush charging on the counter by the sink. Still in his combat boots, Wade stepped into the shower and opened up the closest bottle. He sniffed it.

_Mmm, peaches and cream._

He could have more easily ignored the thought of how she smelled after a shower if she'd had some floral scent. But no, Mort's girl had to have peaches and cream body wash.

"That's it," he muttered.

He stepped out of the shower and made his way to her bedroom. The door was mostly open, and he heard soft music playing, the sort that grandmothers of the day listened to when they were in their twenties.

He slipped inside her bedroom and once he ascertained she was sleeping averted his eyes from her bed until he was safely settled in the darkest corner. Then he looked.

Hannah Levy slept, like so many, in the fetal position. She was facing him, and in sleep she was perhaps less attractive, without the smile to brighten her face. The sheets were bunched around her waist, hugging her hips. Her arms curled so her hands were clasped neatly under her chin. Her upper arms, curse them, covered her chest.

Only one thing was wrong with the angelic sleeper: her breathing was too shallow.

With a frown, Wade stepped out of the corner.

"You're awake."

A smile tweaked her lips. "Yeah, I guess so." She leaned over to turn on her bedside lamp, but Wade got there first.

"I don't think so, moxy." A katana was out before she had gotten close, and just to be sure, Wade sliced the lamp's cord.

"That wasn't neccessary." She sat up, frowning. "I'm not as interesting as you think I am."

"What?"

"Isn't that your thing? You meet interesting and exciting people and kill them. I'm just letting you know I'm not that interesting."

Wade laughed. Damn it all to hell if she wasn't something else.

"You know an awful lot about me, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. Wade took the opportunity to see if she was showing anything, but her oversized t-shirt was doing a good job of keeping her covered. "I've got friends in low places, what can I say."

"Quoting Garth Brooks, huh? You are my kinda woman, Levy."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm taken."

"You will be sorry once you get a load of what you're missing."

"From what I hear, just the biggest mouth in the history of the world." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Besides, I can see now. You aren't anything special."

"I'm hurt. Aren't you taken in by my charm and wit?"

She laughed warmly, and Wade slid his katana back into its sheath.

She was right.

She wasn't interesting.

She was fascinating.

And if he wanted to keep Toad on his buddy list, he knew Hannah Levy was going to have to stay in one piece. One half-delicious, half-ordinary, all-interesting piece.

_Good luck with that._


	3. Lorelei Travis

Again, all that doesn't belong to me belongs to someone else.

Please read and review! I'm dying for some feedback here.

Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

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_A few boys once tried to cut my hair off._

_But I am stronger than a pair of scissors, and my hair grew back._

_Mutants are the same. You can try to get rid of us, but you won't succeed. We're stronger than you and your technology._

_My name is Lorelei Travis._

_I'm a mutant._

_And I'm stronger than you._

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Backstage, Lorelei kicked herself for running.

Wade Wilson and his disgustingly middle-aged friend couldn't hurt her. If they did, Absolon would make them wish they'd never stepped foot inside her club.

"Something wrong, Lorelei?"

She looked up and smiled at Daniel Kaufman. He owned the club, and even if he was a mobster, he took good care of 'his girls'.

"No, sir."

"Good. Wouldn't want anything to happen to your friends back there, now, would we?" Kaufman winked at her. "I'm off to the Inferno for the night. Mr. Punch is in charge. Have a good 'un."

"You too."

Lorelei watched her boss leave. He was a good guy, for the most part. It was too bad his mutation made him so volatile— it was hardly safe to get a hug from him. Thank God for Mr. Punch— he could get beat up and wouldn't feel a thing, and harbored no ill will towards Kaufman despite the frequent beatings.

It was refreshing, seeing that kind of loyalty. Loyalty like that was rare at the Wildkat Klub.

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// _Eight Years Ago_ //

Lorelei was nineteen when her hair started moving.

She had been a dancer at the Klub even then, although just a backup dancer. She rarely got asked out by customers, except by the occasional anime freak who liked her pink hair.

She was, to be honest, a bit sick of them. But most of them were sweet if she was nice to them, and actually even lavished niceties on her that made some of the other girls jealous. They didn't get handmade presents.

Only a few of the girls stayed longer than a few months. Lorelei had only been there for half a year, and Shaky Kaufman was slightly disappointed in her. She had a full figure and she was tall, and she knew he thought she could do better.

Before the crowds came in one day, she started practicing some new moves Lara the Illusionist had taught her. She was surprised when her hair started moving with her. Lara clapped and laughed.

Within a few months, Lorelei had, with Lara's help, become one of the household names. Lara was surprisingly supportive, unlike most of the old-timers. Lara explained that gifts should be admired, not resented.

Lorelei never forgot Lara's earnest look from that day.

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// _Now_ //

Lorelei was still a household name, even though she was a little past her prime. Twenty-seven seemed a respectable age to stop dancing, but she was reluctant to leave the club that had been her home for so many years.

She had a family there, after all.

There was Shaky Kaufman, Mr. Punch, Lara, and the other girls. There was no more hard feelings between any of them. Recent strife in Mutant Town had made the bonds between them tighter than ever.

And then there was Absolon.

Mr. M was one of the most powerful men she'd ever met, and he was interested in her, Lorelei Travis.

It was more than a little bit flattering, and Lorelei would be a liar if she said she didn't like Absolon back at least as much as he admired her. She was a bit taller than him, and a bigger person in general, but his kindness towards her had made him a friend, and later, a lover.

He'd saved her from human supremacists, he'd saved her from overzealous customers, and he'd saved her from her own bad habits. In return, she'd helped him with his.

It was a good relationship.

Lorelei couldn't think of a man who could make her happier.

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// _McCarthy Avenue_ //

Lorelei got off work at two in the morning, and as soon as she was dressed for the streets she hurried to McCarthy Avenue Tenements, where Absolon lived.

And where Hannah Levy lived.

Wade Wilson had been right— Lorelei barely knew the girl. But she still felt terrible for telling him anything about her. Hell, she might have signed Hannah's death sentence.

And Hannah was one of Absolon's few friends. She couldn't let her die.

So Lorelei hurried to where she was pretty sure Hannah lived. She checked the last names on the buzzers in the lobby and found LEVY. She pushed the button and after a moment heard, "Come on up."

Lorelei raced up the stairs and to the end of the hall, where Hannah Levy's door was open and Hannah Levy was waiting inside the door, a small smile on her face.

"Hi, Lorelei."

"Hannah, Wade Wilson— you need to be careful."

"Wade's in the bathroom at the moment," Hannah said. Lorelei froze just inside the door, shocked. "Come in." Hannah gave her a gentle push so she could close the door and locked it.

"He's... he's..."

"In the bathroom." Hannah's mouth twitched. "He's not going to kill me, I'm not interesting enough to die."

"Oh, but you are. I mean, Absolon is your friend! How could you not be interesting?"

Hannah laughed. Lorelei ran a slightly disapproving eye over her over-sized t-shirt and pajama pants.

"Lorelei, trust me, I'll be fine."

"Hey there, sweet cheeks. If you wanted to see me so bad you coulda just asked."

Lorelei flushed as Wade walked past her, his hand resting for a brief and uncomfortable second on the small of her back. "I came to warn Hannah. About you."

"Well, I'm fine, as you see." Hannah held her arms out as if to put herself on display. "All in one piece."

"For now," Lorelei muttered. She glared at Wade for a moment before turning back to Hannah.

The smile on the girl's face set Lorelei back on her heels. It wasn't patronizing, but Lorelei felt somehow foolish. "I'll be fine," Hannah assured her. "It's probably best if you go home."

Lorelei's eyes prickled. She backed away from Hannah and fled.

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// _Back Inside_ //

Wade Wilson erupted in laughs once Lorelei was gone.

"She— she actually thought she could—"

Hannah tuned him out. She watched out of the window over the sink as Lorelei hurried off. Sending Lorelei away hadn't been because of confidence.

It was fear.

If Lorelei got hurt, Hannah knew Mr. M, if not God, would strike her down. Lorelei had nothing to do with Wade Wilson and Mort, and Hannah had no intention of changing that.

Now, it was just her and Wade Wilson in her apartment, and now that she'd stopped paying attention he was just staring at her.

She grinned at him, but on the inside feared for her life.

_Someone help._


	4. Jack Hammer

A/N: All that doesn't belong to me belongs to someone else.

Thanks for your patience— more will be coming sooner than this one did.

Read, review, enjoy!

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_I'm no mutant. I'm just good with technology._

_I'm probably about as much of a pest to the government as they are, though. But hey, if I wasn't in their bad books I probably wouldn't be doing my job right._

_That's right, I'm a hacker._

_So take care you don't tell me your passwords, because this Jack might just—_

_hack you._

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Jack had one job: keep Toad preoccupied until further notice.

He was doing a good job of it, but no amount of preoccupation could keep a guy's mind off his girl for too long. It had been less than twenty hours, which included a few food breaks, but Toad was getting suspicious.

"Look, Weasel, wot's goin' on?"

Toad didn't know that pretty much everything Jack did was for Wade's benefit, so he didn't suspect anything in that direction. But Jack knew that eventually, he'd find out.

So Jacob Hammer, nicknamed Weasel, squealed.

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// _Twenty-Two Years Ago — 1987_ //

At nineteen, Jacob Hammer was at Empire State University. He didn't have any animal-related nicknames. His few friends called him Jake. Sometimes his roommate called him a jackhammer, claiming that he also made things quick and painful.

Weasel's roommate was a bit strange.

Stranger still was his roommate's second cousin, who came and visited one time while he was taking a break from 'confidential' work. Weasel had an easy enough time hacking his way into government profiles and finding out exactly what Wade Wilson did.

Wade Wilson almost killed Weasel, but after figuring out how good the guy was at what he did decided against it.

The second cousin— Jack's roommate— got killed three days later, after reading some of Weasel's files on Wilson.

Jack got a condolence card in the mail a week later that contained five hundred dollars with a promise of more to come.

Jack didn't say anything.

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// _Now_ //

Toad was surprisingly calm about the whole thing.

Jack had expected the guy to go on wild rampages, but no, he was just sitting there, calmly, fingertips pressed together between his knees as he sat on the couch.

"Know wot?"

"What?"

"'Annah's a big girl. She can take care of 'erself."

"Uh huh."

Jack knew nothing about this Hannah chick, but he was one hundred percent positive that no, she could not take care of herself, not if Wade Wilson was involved. If she wasn't already dead, she was fucked.

And not just figuratively: Weasel knew how women generally thought of Wade. Sexy bad boys were all the rage, and if Hannah Levy had settled for Mortimer Toynbee as her sexy bad boy, she was going to regret it if Wade set his sights on her.

She'd probably end up dead in the end, but better to go out with a bang than a whimper, right?

_Riiiight._

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// _Hannah's Apartment_ //

Hannah had only recently begun keeping food in the apartment. She bought it for Mort, since he was the only person who really came to her place, but now that Wade Wilson was here, she was glad she'd thought ahead.

Wade was curiously eager for a bowl of cereal and milk, so she obliged him with cornflakes— or rather, he helped himself to cornflakes. He devoured them faster than she could have imagined, and she was left staring at him in half amusement, half shock.

"What?"

"Do you always eat that fast?"

"Why, don't you enjoy your food? I mean it's no good if you go at it slow. It gets soggy."

"Uh huh." Hannah hesitated before reaching to take the empty bowl and spoon back. She pulled them away from him quickly and hurried to the sink. "So, Wade." She turned around with a smile, but when she found him only a few feet away from her as opposed to still sitting at the table, she jumped.

"Scared, moxy?"

"Fucking horrified," she said, rolling her eyes. "Normal people don't sneak up on their hosts like that."

"Well in case you hadn't noticed, we aren't normal people." He flashed a quick grin. "Now tell me something."

"What?"

Wade reached out and twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers, consciously keeping himself from ripping it out. "How did a pretty little piece like you get stuck with the terrible toad king?"

Hannah burst out laughing.

"Terrible toad king! That's a new one." She pressed a hand to her heart, giggling as only truly amused girls do. Wade rolled his eyes and held onto her hair a little tighter. "I'll have to run that one by him."

Wade yanked on her hair, and she bent almost double with a stifled scream. She grabbed his hand with hers.

"Answer the question, moxy."

"Is it so hard to believe that Mort makes someone _happy_?!"

Wade relaxed his grip enough for her to stand up and back away. She massaged her scalp, no longer looking him in the eye.

It _was_ a bit hard to believe. Mort Toynbee was by no means a happy guy; the idea of his making _other_ people happy seemed far-fetched.

So he told her that yes, it was hard to believe.

She tossed her head a little and didn't answer. He could tell she was angry more than frightened now than he was second-guessing her boyfriend. It amused him just the right amount to keep his swords in their sheaths.

_This girl has no idea how lucky she is._

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As a matter of fact, Hannah did know how lucky she was.

She'd only heard stories about Wade Wilson from Mort, and she usually liked to verify her sources, but one person's account was, in this case, enough. She'd heard what Wade Wilson was capable of.

Wade Wilson had kidnapped mutant children for experiments, and hadn't even batted an eye.

Maybe it had been nineteen years ago and all, and maybe he was clinically insane, but still. Kidnapping anyone was bad in Hannah's book. Mutants, humans, children, adults. Didn't matter. Still would be bad.

Also he was a mercenary, a killer for hire. Hell, he might be there to kill her.

_That would be _too_ ridiculous_.

Hannah knew she wasn't important enough to get killed. All she did was write papers for a magazine. And most people found her articles boring. It's not like she was exposing government secrets or anything, or even working with the X-men.

She was still rubbing her scalp, mostly to keep her hands busy. She didn't want Wade Wilson to see her shaking. Eventually she took her hands down and moved back to the sink to rinse his bowl. He backed away slightly, and she prayed he would leave.

He didn't leave. He jumped up to sit on the counter a few feet away from her. Hannah felt his eyes on her face, and once the bowl was clean she put it on a towel to dry.

Her hands hovered over the bowl before a loud knocking at the window made her flinch.

"I locked the window," Wade explained. "You should keep it locked, dangerous people might get in." He laughed and went to go let Mort— at least she hoped it was Mort— in.

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Jack was quiet for a few minutes after Mort said that Hannah Levy could take care of herself.

Then, he said, "I dunno, Toad. You think?"

Mort thought a moment, then stood up.

He was gone faster than Jack could hammer out a proper goodbye.


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